A Heathcliff centric fic (probably 2 chapters, but if I'm clobbered in the head with ideas, maybe more) because I love him and TVV gave me all the feels. Also, I felt like the book needed more of an epilogue, and here it is. I'm not sure where this would fit into the timeline with Miss Information's appearance - so it's slightly AU.

Enjoy.

The first thought the boy has is quite simple: I'm dead.

It makes sense. He doesn't know where he is. Or who he is. Or what he is. It's very bright here, and his body feels weirdly tingly. So the logical conclusion is that he is dead.

Part of his brain awakens sleepily, thinking that's rather romantic and nice, to be dead in a bright, bright place. The skeptic half of his brain kicks in a second later, and it's a little ticked off about this whole thing.

…Oh, God, maybe he's a schizo. (He knows what a 'schizo' is. Is that a good sign? Are there schizophrenics in heaven? Probably not. )

Okay, he probably isn't in heaven. His senses are giving out dead ends- bright lights, a low buzz, and finally… the smell of fruit punch? His tongue slips over his teeth, and he finds that he has a gap in the front. That's weird.

He tries to lift his head. It feels weird - the weight is off, and as he moves, he feels locks of hair brush the top of his eyebrows. He can't remember ever having hair that long. …Come to think of it, he can't remember anything. All he has are those lightning quick bursts of information. They're comforting, in a way. He turns as he thinks, away from the brightness, an orange spot burning bright through his line of vision.

His surroundings shift from a bright light to an equal helpful world of blurred shapes and colors.

"Where am I?" He asks aloud, just to hear the sound of his own voice, and tries not to start when a black clad figure appears out of nowhere and turns to him. It looks like a monster, but it sounds like a boy.

"You're in the playground," comes the voice, young with a very faint Spanish accent. The word triggers an image, and suddenly the boy knows what playgrounds look like. And that they certainly didn't look like this. Why was he lying to him?

"…Or rather, the new playground. When you went to sleep, we were in fifth grade. We've moved to middle school now."

That, at least, made sense to him. A coma he was in for a year… morbid, but refreshingly logical.

"And who are you?" He asks politely.

The other boy shifts a bit, and then takes off his head. It reveals a far less scary head beneath: no shiny black smoothness- he can make out two eyes and a nose and a wide mouth. "Now do you recognize me?"

The boy opens his mouth slightly, cool air hitting the gap between his teeth. "No. I've never seen you before in my life." He doesn't think so, anyway.

He sees the boys' eyes widen a fraction. "I'm… I'm a friend," he reassures him. He speaks quickly, already starting another question before he's finished sounding out 'friend'. "Do you know who you are?"

…

…

Oh.

That was the big question his brain kept skipping over, wasn't it? Me. Who was 'me'? Who was the kid with the gap in his teeth and bad vision? He waits for the inner encyclopedia to provide an answer, a name, a face, but there's nothing. He reaches into the back of his mind, paws into the corners, past the dust bunnies and lint, under the seat cushions and behind the wardrobe, but there's nothing. No one.

"No, I don't," he says, finally, and those are the words of the defeated.

"Your name is Heathcliff," the other boy provides immediately.

The boy – Heathcliff - frowns, mulls it over for a moment. "That's a stupid name," he decides, after moment's thought.

The other kid bursts out into surprised laughter. "It kind of is, hombre." Heathcliff feels like that one comment has changed the boys' entire demeanor.

"What's your name?" Heathcliff asks, manners kicking in.

"Julio Escala. But everyone calls me Flinch."

"Why?"

Julio lets out a long, tired sigh. "It's sorta a long story."

Flinch is pacing outside the doors. He's got a candy bar in one hand, soda in the other, and it's not helping his nerves at all. How does he break the news? How the heck can someone say "Oh, by the way, Heathcliff's awake but doesn't remember anything about himself or the NERDs?"

They're going to be skeptical, and he has no idea how to handle that. They'll all think Heathcliff's putting on a fake face, pretending to be a goodie goodie. He can't exactly say he just knows Heathcliff is different, can he? He doesn't even think Duncan would believe him.

Oh, no. What if they think he was brainwashed? That a new strain of the virus came out of Heathcliff's head, one he wasn't immune to? And then they'd all turn against him again. He shuddered at the idea of another Ruby beat down. This time, he'd be ready, at least. He stared at the candy in his hand, chocolate and caramel and peanuts all churned into a delicious snack for him, and a collection of allergens for Ruby. Maybe if he used it as a grenade, he could escape…

"Flinch, stop pacing. It's freaking me out!" Ruby's voice (accompanied by itching) snaps him out of the elaborate fantasy.

"Whoa," Flinch says, turning to see the entire team outside the doors and looking at him. "You're cured? When did you guys get here?"

"Five minutes ago?" Matilda says, raising an eyebrow.

"Oops. Sorry, I'm just… stressed out."

"We all are," Ruby says, and sighs.

Jackson shakes his head miserably. "I wish I never woke up."

"Oh, you already know," Flinch says with relief, hand to his chest. "I was so worried I'd have to break it to you."

Duncan looks uncharacteristically forlorn. "Doctor Kim told us about Miss Holiday when we all came to. I can't believe it."

The relief soaring through Flinch stops with a snap. "She didn't tell you the rest?"

"There's more?" Jackson exclaims.

They all turn to him, weary and expectant, and panic starts to kick in. Why, oh why, did Doctor Kim leave it to him? He was no good with this stuff. It was probably because he saw it in person, but that didn't mean he could explain it!

He decides to get it over with. "Heathcliff is back to normal but he doesn't remember anything about himself or NERDs or us or alternate universes or nanos or anything!" He shouts in one breath.

Jackson's blue eyes widen. "You're kidding."

"It's true! I saw him when he woke up and had to carry him over to the doctors. He's a completely new dude."

Ruby's expression darkens, and she pushes up her sleeves. "That doesn't make this whole thing any less his fault," she growls, and starts storming her way down the hallway. Flinch reaches out and grabs her by the back of her shirt, reeling her back. The blonde holds her arms out for balance, looking surprised.

"What are you doing?"

"I've been on the receiving end of your punches, chica. Heathcliff - new Heathcliff - doesn't deserve that."

She blushes a little, no allergies involved, and it looks surprisingly girly on her. She fights her way out of his grip. "And it was his fault. How on earth can you forgive him?"

"Because he's different, Pufferfish. He's not Simon or Screwball or Megamind or whatever he called himself anymore. He's a new dude. You have to start over with him."

Duncan, Jackson and Matilda follow the conversation with their gazes, heads snapping back and forth between the two. But at this, all three nod.

But Ruby is silent. She scratches at an itch under her shirtsleeve. "I won't hurt him," she says finally, "even he deserves it. But I will never forgive him. Ever."

Heathcliff's already pushing himself up by his elbows before they've entered the room. He knows it's not Doctor Kim. Doctor Kim wears heels that make such a precise sound on the white, white floor that he always knows when she's checking in on him. No, this is a group of people, and he finds a strange sense of excitement pass through his belly as he straightens up, running a hand to smooth back his hair.

Because part of him is hoping that his family's on the other side of that door, smiling. His mom would be red haired and in tears, and his dad would be tall and wear glasses, just like he did (or at least, was supposed to), and maybe he had an annoying little sister and they all missed him so much…

There was something in his core that was cold and logical and told him that the looks on all of his doctor's faces made a family reunion unlikely, but he still hoped.

The door swings open, but it's not his family - or any doctors. Instead, what he thinks is a girl shuffles in, their shoulders hunched, head angled down, with a posture that asked people not to bother them. The kid is short, though, and wears an over-sized jacket, so Heathcliff's not sure if it's really a girl or a delicate looking boy. Immediately after is a chubby kid with a bounce in his step, and a blonde who strolls in like he's seen too many pirate movies. (Pirates. He could remember that.)

Baffled, he doesn't understand why they're there until the last kid slips through the door. He wears a vest and suspenders, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and the jittery walk allow identifies him as a Julio Escala, a boy who had saved his life.

Apparently.

"You're the NERDs," Heathcliff says, rubbing his eyes. He can't really make out their faces, not without glasses. His doctors had promised him a replacement pair, but he didn't really care. It wasn't like it mattered to him before today.

"Most of them, at lea-" the tall kid with blonde hair starts, before the delicate kid elbows him hard in the stomach.

"Yes, we are," the chubby preteen says, a kind tone in his voice that reminds him of Dr. Kim. "And we're here to make sure you're safe and comfortable. We're responsible for you, and we feel really bad about everything you've been through-"

Heathcliff isn't really sure what he's been through, so he picks up on the blondes' comment instead. "What do you mean, most of them? This isn't the whole team?"

He can barely see, but that doesn't hide the visible wince coming from the kids.

"No, man," Julio says, after a long pause. "Ruby - she's the leader - s'not, uh, ready to meet you yet."

"What did I do to her?" Heathcliff asks with a little smile. They say nothing, just stare steadily back, and the smile drops off his face.

"Ah," Heathcliff says. He's starting to wonder if he really wants to know who he was before his incident.

"No, dude, it wasn't that bad!" Julio protests. He hears a reprimanding whisper from the kids behind Julio, but can't make it out.

"But she refuses to talk to me." Heathcliff says, unimpressed with their (admittedly noble) efforts to pretend everything was okay.

"De nada, man. Don't-"

"We got over it, and so will she," the delicate kid says, voice distinctly female and calm. She folds her arms. "Give it time."

Another long pauses passes, and the kind kid presses his lips together, as if he's worried about how this conversation is going. "Well, um, we have to go now, Heathcliff, but if you need anything-"

"I can ask. I know." Heathcliff finds warmth in his voice, and as much as he's worried about this Ruby person… he knows that his words are true, and that he's willing to help in whatever way he can.

They all smile uneasily - the blonde revealing a mouth full of braces, and the girl a tooth gap that almost rivals his own - and leave, shuffling out one by one again.

Heathcliff settles back into his pillows, pulling his blankets up to his chin. He doesn't let himself think about Ruby or Julio or the help he might or might not deserve. He just wants to sleep.

"Doctor Kim? Do you know Ruby?"

The prescription slips out of the doctor's hands, and she does an impressive juggling dance to get it back in her grip. She gives a forced laugh. "Ruby? What do you know about a Ruby?"

Heathcliff presses his lips together. "I know that I knew her, and something I did to her is keeping her from ever talking to me again. I just want to know if it was really that bad…"

"Oh, Heathcliff." Doctor Kim hunkers down to sit on his bed, putting a hand on his shoulder. It's warm, comforting.

"She's going to forgive you, one day. You're a new person now, and those mistakes aren't yours."

"What kind of person was I to make that mistake in the first place, though? What was Ruby to me?"

Doctor Kim goes quiet, her fingers stilling on his shoulder. "I don't know," she says, quietly. "I don't think you did, either."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Heathcliff!"

"Sorry," he says quickly, though he has a nagging feeling he never had to apologize for saying 'hell' and 'damn' before.

The doctor gives a disapproving headshake. "How about," she offers, "you make it up to me by not letting your impressive brain stress about some girl you don't even remember?"

The redhead nods compliantly, and she smiles with perfectly white teeth and places the prescription down on his bedside.

"Take one before you go to sleep!"

"Got it, Doctor Kim. Thank you for the advice." He sits up, back straight and he smiles through sweetly his teeth gap, until the woman leaves the room.

It seems to Heathcliff that the only way to get a straight answer was to wait for the girl herself.